The sweetest sound in the world.

So I'm learning that after giving birth, you are basically on this wild roller coaster. You're healing and learning. You're recovering from something huge while taking on something even bigger. And most days, especially those very early days, you're trying desperately to keep your head above water. 

You're happy, of course. You made this sweet new life. And you look down at her sweet face and watch her eyes explore yours for the first time, and nothing is more magical. There is no joy that rivals her clinging on to you with her teeny fingers for the first time. And good lord, that smell, that amazing new baby smell they have that melts you. It's a complete sensory experience of pure bliss.

But it's tough. The red faced crying when you just don't know what's wrong. You'll try a thousand things but holy shit, why don't any of them work? That delicious baby smell gets masked by giant baby shit smell. And you find yourself pulling apart "delicious baby rolls" to clean slime out of them. You'll stare at her sleeping and think, "Please God, let her stay that way. I'm too tired to calm that scary little demon."

The good news is - that scary baby is only here a few hours a day. But sometimes we have the tendency in life to focus on the tough parts. The not so nice ones. We get bogged down in the details because we're human. 

But a couple days ago my grandparents came to visit. Can I just brag for a second? Holy love fest, I have never seen anything more beautiful in all my life. Literally 4 generations. Watching my grandma snuggle Hartley was too precious for words to describe. 

But I digress. My grandpa said something that, at first, made me think he was losing his marbles. 

Hartley began to cry, as babies do. And he said, "there's no sweeter sound in the world." I looked over at my uncle and noticed he had a puzzled look on his face. I masked my puzzled look but was wondering if he was in fact hearing the cry I was hearing. Later that day I thought more about what my grandpa had said, and it clicked for me.

Here he is, with 84 amazing years under his belt, and while Hartley's life is just starting, his is winding down. I'm sure in 84 years, you learn what is truly important, and one of them is growing a family. Welcoming new life and soaking in a time so fleeting and special. 

And I thought about it, someday, if I play my cards right and God is good to me, I will have 84 amazing years under my belt. And there will be a part of me that longs to see my baby as a baby again - even if it means hearing that cry. It's a sound that let's us know God is good and life is beautiful. How amazing it is that we create life and watch time go on and our family continue. 

I will still be overwhelming frazzled sometimes when the crying just won't stop. I'll feel like a little less of a mom for a few minutes because I don't know the answer. But my goal is to try to remember what a sweet sound that cry is, what it really means. 

I often think I'll be so much better at the tears over a skinned knee, a bad break up or a college rejection letter. But I need to savor my baby as a baby. I need to learn to find the good in what a very wise man calls "the sweetest sound". I'm trying to shake my "survival mode" for "soak in it mode" because I know I'll blink, this cry will be gone, and I'll long for it.